


Alone and Unloved

by NightOfStarFall



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Robins, Angst, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Gen, Jason Todd is Robin, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake is Red Hood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightOfStarFall/pseuds/NightOfStarFall
Summary: Was it better, to have died the unloved son of his parents as a failed heir to a company that died nearly as swiftly as he did? Or would it have been better to have truly become Bruce’s son, to have actually earned the love of his mentor, only to have it ripped away at the hands of a madman intent on causing nothing but chaos?Would it have been worse to lose the love of a father in such a manner then it was to have died as he did, unloved and alone, crying for someone he could never truly know even truly tolerated him?~~Tim Drake was the second Robin. When he comes back to find someone else standing in his role, he knows the expected response is anger, but he's not. Not really.But still, he has to at least pretend, if he has any shot of protecting the boy.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	Alone and Unloved

**Author's Note:**

> So! I am just posting all sorts of things today. This is something that has been rattling around in my brain due to the question Tim asks himself about what would have been better. I hope you guys enjoy! 
> 
> Also note, this is subject to change at some point, just so y'all know!

A single question floated around in his head as he stared at the newspaper clippings in front of him, headline proclaiming Jason Todd to be Bruce Wayne’s new adopted son - dated from just over a year ago, he distantly noted - as he claws back the anger thrumming in his veins, threatening green at the edges of his vision.

Was it better, to have died the unloved son of his parents, a failed heir to a company that died nearly as swiftly as he did? Or would it have been better to have truly become Bruce’s son, to have actually earned at the very least some token of affection from his mentor, only to have it ripped away at the hands of a madman intent on causing nothing but chaos?

Would it have been worse to lose the love of a father in such a manner then it was to have died as he did, unloved and alone, crying for someone he could never know even truly tolerated him?

Tim wished he knew. Wished that beneath the clawing grip of green anger he had some kind of peace. Knew for certainty that which would have been worse so he could morn the loss or feel a modicum of acceptance with what happened. But all he felt was a soul weary sadness and an all-consuming rage that he wished to fight.

He didn’t blame the kid. Not for taking his place. He didn’t even blame Bruce for putting him there. Batman _needs_ a Robin.

Tim knew that better than anyone.

Sure, the pit liked to choke him at the thought of his ex-mentor, of the blood son who liked to hold over him every failure he made, when he thought of the clown who kept breathing, even as he escaped again and again killing more and more and more people, as Bruce did nothing that could actually help anyone from the insane bastard who killed him.

Not that he could begrudge Bruce for not breaking his code over a child who was never his.

Nor could bring himself to be angry that he hadn’t saved him.

It was his fault, in the end. He had been stupid, sneaking out on patrol alone with the Joker out. He was the one who up and left because Bruce was out of town in a business trip and it would take time to get back to Gotham, and Damian was in space, as was his friends but someone had to stop the Joker from hurting more people.

And he did.

As Bruce raced back to Gotham, the Joker had tied Tim up in a warehouse. Had run volts and volts of electricity through him as he was screaming in terror and pain, begging Batman to come save him. Had bleached his skin, craved a knife through his cheeks. Had goaded the boy into calling him Uncle Joker, and when Tim had finally felt insane, as mad as the man who had put him in this position, he had called him a good little boy and left him bound, laughing as hysterically as he cried, as a timer slowly ticked down, second after second down to zero.

Then he had woken up to Ra’s face, his world tinted green, and an anger he couldn’t seem to shake.

And it really was all his fault.

“I know it must be difficult, Detective.” Ra’s says from the other side of the room, wisely out of reach of Tim’s immediate attack zone, “Seeing how easily you were replaced.”

The word sends another stab of green through hi, as his brain supplied the voice of another, calling _him_ the replacement.

“Is there anything I can do to ease you pain?”

He always phrased it that was, as pain over anger, as if that made it easier to bear. And Tim knew what he wanted. He wanted Tim to be anger. To want to attack this new kid, this new _Robin_ , for taking a place that was never really Tim’s.

To finally wrench him away from the last dregs of Bruce’s control once and for all.

And 8 month ago, fresh from the pit, consumed with nothing but unbridled anger and memories of more pain than he had ever felt fresh in his mind? Tim would have been frothing at the mouth to go after this kid.

But Ra’s had taught him well, too well, at how to control that rage. To push beyond it and focus it to a sharp point in his mind that aided him instead of hindered him.

Now Tim knew what he had to do. He had to protect his kid from a fate like his.

“Get me a way to Gotham. That’s a good start.”

Maybe he could get out from under Ra’s thumb at the same time.

* * *

“You don’t have to go, Detective.” Ra’s all but purred out from his place behind Tim, his long slender fingers working their way up the catches of the suit he had had specially made for Tim, ensuring that each one was securely done up – despite the fact Tim had told Ra’s on multiple occasions that he would be able to do so himself, “I could very easily send someone else to kill your subpar replacement and that maniacal clown your ex-mentor has chosen over your avengement.”

“I know,” Tim replies, a testament to his relearned self-control that he doesn’t fall into the clutches of green haze that harps at him to dispose of the person causing him unearthly levels of discomfort as Ra’s walk around to his front and stares him in the eyes. A year and a half ago, before any training with the Demon Head, it was easy for Tim to blame his attacks as fit of pit rage. To cite something minor that had set him off as appose to the fact that the man’s presents alone was what caused the pit to flare. But after the months and months of _personal training_ that Ra’s has put into Tim’s self-discipline, it would not be so easily waved away, and as satisfying as the short term of throwing Ra’s bodily into a wall would be, the long-term ramifications would set him back months, if not a year or more, “But this is something I have to do myself. I slay the beast who thought he slew me, I teach my replacement a lesson, I prove to Bruce that I am capable of more then he is, and I show Damian that he is never to be your heir. I have to do it on my own or coming back will have been for nothing.”

He knows not what Ra’s is looking for as he stares at Tim’s blue-green eyes but after a long, tense moment, he nodded and turned away, heading to the window in Tim’s room looking across the admittedly lovely view his accommodations provided.

“I suppose I can understand. You must conquer your own challenges.” Tim couldn’t help the silent sigh of relief that flowed through him at the words. “I do so wish that you could do so at my side, but I suppose that would negate the needed independence of doing it on your own.”

“Thank you,” Tim breathed out, eyes slipping shut of their own accord. He knew that had Ra’s said no, had he decided that he didn’t think Time should go to Gotham for whatever reason, there was no way he’s ever get there. “Thank you for understanding that I _need_ to do this.”

“You are so very welcome Detective. I can understand the importance of standing on your own.” Tim strains to hear his soft footfall as he makes his way in front of him, fingers gently lifting his chin, prompting him to open his eyes and look him in the eyes before the grip turned bruising and his eyes turned cold and hard. “But don’t you dare think that you can get out of your place at my side. You would be nothing, not even here, without me. Do you understand.”

“Of course.” Tim replied, trying not to spit the words out at the immortal. “To be frank I am angered at the fact that you would even think of that as a possibility. I know my place, and I know my end of a deal. I was not molded from infancy to be a man who _revokes his word_. What do you take me for?”

Ra’s appraised him for a moment, and Tim felt a bolt of stark relief go through him when Ra’s accepts Tim at his word. 

He may not know it, but Tim was actually molded to be an ambitious manipulator who lets nothing – no one – stand in the way of what he wants, and while Time knows that he can’t ever go back to Bruce – not with his hands stained a deep rich blood red – he knew he could protect Robin from the thing that goes bump in the night. He just has to hope that either Bruce will have enough pity in his to keep he detained in the cave, or else where suitably Ra’s-proof, because god knows he won’t survive that encounter and he would not like to take another dip in the Lazarus pit. Hopeful Bruce won’t hate him enough to leave him to that fate. Or perhaps he will at least be weary enough of the villain Ra’s is trying to make of him to keep him from the man.

“I would never dream of any place then that at your side.”

“Good. Now come take a look at the masterpiece I have crafted for you.”

Guiding Tim to the mirror hidden away in the corner – where it had been installed after Tim have punched one too many in a fit of rage related to the green tinted eyes and white stocks of hair – and Tim couldn’t quite contain the quiet breath at the outfit he now wore.

The suit had a black base and was skintight, armor woven in in such a way that it was near imperceptible, yet still unbelievably strong. His hands and forearms were a deep solid blood red that faded into the black suit just past the elbows. The boots her wore were similarly colored in the deep blood red. The suit underneath designed so that the red that faded on his legs faded not far past the top of the boots, making it difficult to discern exactly where the boot ended unless you were looking for it. He had two thigh holsters, one for a knife and one for a gun, the bo staff Ra’s had gifted him was black graphite, both ends coved in the same blood red, reminiscent of something having been stabbed through with the staff. But the most shocking part was the chest of the suit, where two black bandoliers crossing over a blood red bat symbol, so dark red that it was almost black, and with a dripping design that gave it the appearance of bleeding.

“As I told you the day you woke up, Detective,” Ra’s said over Tim’s shoulder, “You look divine coated in red. You are just missing one thing.”

Tearing his eyes away from the suit he wore, Tim met Ra’s’ eyes as he raised a helmet, also a bright red, and fit it gently over Tim’s head. It was a moment of darkness before the helmet activated and suddenly the visor lit up, a state-of-the-art computer screen giving way to show Tim the outside world.

Staring back at him in the mirror was no long Tim Drake, the ghost of a boy – a Robin – who died far too young. But instead, someone powerful, who could fix what the naive boy couldn’t.

“What do you say, Warithi?”

“I say, it’s time for the Red Hood to return to Gotham.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I may keep going with it if anyone is interested, but of not it end here and you guys have the ability to imagine it ending however you want, feel free to let me know! Have a good one everyone!!
> 
> By the way, tell me, what do you think would have been worse for Tim? Do you guys have an opinion? Would it be worse for him if Bruce had adopted him?


End file.
